


moonlight

by poetrydivided



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Super gay shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:03:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetrydivided/pseuds/poetrydivided
Summary: The one in which Camila develops a mega crush on her chemistry partner and just can’t seem to escape. [its really gay] [and 99% based on a true story) (i s2g the first 3 parts of this actually happened to me]





	1. Part 1: State of Grace

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes let the gay journey begin. fun fact: everything in this part, from Camila transferring to a new school to Lauren laughing at herself for doing something dorky- all of that happened to me irl with my crush and I. rip me. p.s pls tell me if you'd like me to continue!!

Camila just barely makes it to class before the bell rings. Five minutes, she’s learning, is not nearly enough time to stop at her locker downstairs, run all the way upstairs, down two halls past ten classrooms, skate past underclassmen and be in her seat just as the bell rings. Clearly, relying so much on her old school’s seven minute passing-time didn’t prepare her for the future. Then again, one high school’s job isn’t to prepare you for transferring to another one located an hour away.

_Still,_ Camila thinks to herself as she struggles to read her wrinkled print-out of her new schedule. _Transferring sucks._

She takes an empty seat all the way in the back of the classroom, skirting around clumps of loud friend-groups and clearly established cliques. She relaxes into the cold metal of the desk only for a moment, before the teacher calls to the class: “ _Alright, everybody! Welcome to Honors Chemistry! Stand up, stand up! Assigned seating!”_ The teacher is a petite old Asian woman in a navy blue vest. She scrambles her letters here and there, but nevertheless strikes the class with assertion.

Most of the class groans— Camila included. There’s the sluggish process of calling names, pointing at seats, groans in-between. Some students are lucky enough to earn an empty seat next to them. Camila is not one of those lucky students.

She restrains herself from even peeking at the girl-Lauren J.-who slides into the seat next to her. She’s had enough of the icebreaker crap forced onto her by all her other teachers today, and she’ll be damned if she has to go through shaking hands with a random classmate just for them to fake a smile and say in a high-pitched voice, _Oh! You’re new here? That’s so cool!_

Camila does note, however, that this Lauren J. girl has a nice voice. She’s already chattering up a storm with the classmates nearby, catching up on summer whereabouts and whatnot. Lauren giggles at just about everything, and talks with a raspy, crisp tone to her voice. It wouldn’t hurt to just sneak a peek at the girl-

Okay. Camila is in _extra gay_ danger-zone now. If she looks at Lauren and finds out she’s pretty, Camila will never be able to sit still next to the girl without constantly feeling anxious and giddy all at once; she’ll _flunk_ chem. Plus, if Lauren isn’t that pretty, Camila will have an easier time talking to the girl. After all, they are lab partners now; Camila’s gonna need to be able to communicate well with her, and it’ll be so much more comfortable talking to someone who isn’t that intimidating.

Finally, Camila peeks a look. Lauren J. has long, black waves curved around a sharp angled face. She’s pale, but dark enough to alert Camila that the girl definitely can’t just be _white._ The one thing that catches Camila off guard is Lauren’s eyes- big, dazzling green orbs that are way to vivid to be natural and-

Camila turns away the moment Lauren meets her eyes. Rigid in her seat, she sighs in frustration.

_Goddammit,_ she thinks. _She’s pretty._

Camila tries her best to ignore the astoundingly pretty girl sitting next to her as the teacher begins her lecture, but it’s hard to concentrate as sounds keep emitting from Lauren: a sneeze (small and delicate); as well as tiny _bless you_ ’s, whispered under Lauren’s breath every time someone sneezes— knowing full well they can’t hear her. Fuck, is it the most endearing thing.

The bell can’t come soon enough, and Camila is fidgeting with her pen the last ten minutes of class. Finally, she takes a sip of water from her sports bottle (her mom had spent $15 on the thing, ridiculously), something she’s always done to calm her nerves. But then the bottle emits a weird sort of squeaking sound as it deflates, and unfortunately for Camila, it’s loud enough for most of the class to hear.

Including Lauren. _“Bless you,”_ she says in a whisper. The two girls look at each other then, Lauren smiling kindly and Camila with her lips still around the water bottle.

“ _Oh,”_ Lauren corrects herself, then smiles more forcedly, embarrassed at her mistake. She turns back to face the teacher, but giggles at herself. Once, then twice, then a whole shower of giggles as Lauren shakes her head. It’s totally not that funny of a situation, but Lauren is dorky enough to think so.

Camila leaves the class with an ache in her chest. She admires Lauren silently for about two weeks before she makes actual friends. In her TV Production class, she sits down with Dinah and Normani, who also happen to be in her chemistry class.

“Hey,” She says one day, interrupting a conversation that probably circulated around memes. “Do you guys know that one girl in our chemistry class? Lauren Ja…Jaur…Jaur—something?”

“Lauren Jauregui?” Dinah smiles. “Yeah, she’s on the tennis team.”

“And her sister’s in marching band,” Normani adds.

Camila nods. “Cool.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Camila shrugs. “She’s really pretty.”

Both Dinah and Normani crack up. “Oh,” Normani raises a brow. “Is she?”

“Yeah. Like, really pretty.”

Dinah laughs, hitting Camila on the shoulder. “You’ve only known her for two weeks.”

“I’m just _saying:_ she’s _really pretty._ ”

Dinah and Normani continue laughing at Camila. Camila only smiles, eyes directed downwards at her hands, fidgeting with the ends of her skirt.

_Dammit,_ Camila thinks to herself, feeling her cheeks blush. _Lauren really is pretty._


	2. Part Two: The Louvre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinah hits Camila in the shoulder. “You’re a catch.”  
> “Yeah, well,” Camila shrugs. “I don’t think she’s fishing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i had to pause for half an hour writing this chapter b/c I had war flashbacks to when this exact event happened 2 me irl. man, i still have a gay ass crush on the girl this fic is based on. tragic.}

Chemistry sucks major ass.

Camila took Honors Chem on a whim. At her old school, she would be considered below the grade average needed to move on from regular bio to honors level chemistry. Her new school, however, simply asked her if she was “supposed” to be entering the honors course. Thinking of her college dreams, Camila of course said yes. Now that it’s been a few weeks into the class, however, Camila is starting to hate herself for ever saying a word.

The only thing that keeps her from completely regretting her decision is Lauren.

They haven’t spoken since the whole water-bottle-sneeze episode, but Lauren tends to laugh a lot with her best friends, both of whom sit directly in front of Camila’s and Lauren’s shared desk. This convenience also allows Camila to listen in on Lauren’s little conversations with her friends, learning that the girl is Cuban-Mexican and, surprisingly, an artist on all fronts: not only does she sing, but she’s also an insanely talented artist (Camila practically ogles every canvas piece Lauren brings in for her AP art class). 

Today’s chemistry class, however, makes Camila rethink everything.

Mrs W. is supposed to be prepping the class for an upcoming exam set for two days time. The topic is mole conversions, and not one student completely understands just exactly how to calculate. Camila, knowing full-well she’d hit this bump in the road, studied before the review class on her own time, watching youtube videos and taking notes. Generally, she thinks she kinda-sorta-maybe understands the information— at least until Mrs. W. writes an odd conversion factor equation on the board.

 _To convert from grams to moles: x amount of grams over 1 times x amount of moles over x amount of grams._ That’s what Camila knows should be the setup, but instead the board says: _x amount of grams over 1 times x amount of grams over moles._ That wouldn’t cancel out anything properly, Camila notes. It’s wrong— it has to be, unless this chemistry lesson went over her head. Slowly but surely, she raises a shaky hand.

 _“Mrs. W,”_ She says, “ _If you’re converting to moles, shouldn’t the value under the second conversion factor be grams, and the top should be moles?”_

At first, she thinks she’s wrong, but then Miss W. looks at the board, and laughs. “Oh, sorry, you’re right— my bad!”

The entire class instantly breaks out into a chorus of obnoxious chit-chat; some students yell at the teacher half-heartedly, while others simply murmur a “ _ooo,”_ surprised the quietest girl in class actually called Miss W. out.

Blood rushes to Camila’s face, and suddenly her mouth is dry. She ducks her head down, eyes glued to the paper as she fidgets with her pen. She should’ve never said a word, she thinks to herself.

Then Camila feels a nudge at her shoulder, hears a whispered _“good job!”_

Camila just about loses it. Instantly recognizing Lauren’s voice, she turns to the girl and exhales a forced, breathy laugh. Lauren laughs back, her smile wide and genuine.

She turns back to the teacher, feeling her shoulders loosen. She’s still blushing, but not out of embarrassment; this time it’s that nervous, holy-shit-my-crush-just-talked-to-me-willingly blush— the kind that sends a flood of warmth down Camila’s spine. She sinks further into her seat, and for the remainder of class she struggles to fight back her smile.

After Chemistry, Camila waltzes into TV Production class almost in a daze. She’s the first out of her friends to be seated, and as soon as Normani and Dinah greet her, Camila practically yanks them down by the arms.

“So like,” She says quickly, excitement rattling her voice. “Something like. Just happened.”

Normani raises a brow. Dinah sighs, _“Oh please.”_

“Like, um, I was in chemistry, and like-…” Camila takes a breath. “Lauren like…actually talked to me. Like, _literally_ talked to me!”

Dinah and Normani laugh incredulously, glancing at Camila teasingly. They listen to the girl as she practically squeals about the whole thing, even reenacting the scene where she raised her hand to call her teacher out on her mistake. By the end of it, Camila is breathless.

Dinah chuckles again. “You just met her!”

“I know!” Camila laughs back. “I know, I just—…I don’t know. There’s something about her, I guess.”

“You just like her ‘cause she’s nice.” Normani smirks.

“Well, she _is_ nice.”

“ _And pretty_.”

“Yeah,” Camila admits. “She really is.”

Normani sighs, giggling at the girl’s innocence. “Camila, if you’re ever going to date this girl, you need to find a better reason to like her other than that she’s ‘pretty’ and ‘nice’.”

“Who said anything about dating?! I’m just…admiring her, okay? She’s probably straight, anyway. And even if she were into girls, it’s not like I’d ever have a chance.”

Dinah hits Camila in the shoulder. “You’re a catch.”

“Yeah, well,” Camila shrugs. “I don’t think she’s fishing.”

Dinah and Normani laugh some more, then turn their attention to the teacher as the bell rings. Camila tries to listen as well, but for the entirety of class only one word seems to be the object of her attention: _Lauren._


	3. Over My Head (Cable Car)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I DON’T WANNA BE WEIRD.”
> 
> “JUST DO IT!”
> 
> “FUCKING DO IT, CAMILA!”
> 
> “BUT-“
> 
> “IF YOU DON’T DO IT I WILL DO IT FOR YOU.”
> 
> “IT’S SENT.”
> 
> “OH MY GOD.”
> 
> “OH MY GOD!”
> 
> “I JUST FUCKING DM-ED LAUREN.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh. the baby gays.

 

It’s 12 in the morning. Red solo cups are scattered around the floor, in between couch cushions and beanbag chairs. Half of Camila’s friends are passed out, most of them on the floor save for Normani, who is on the couch, back being massaged by the aforementioned solo cups. The few who are awake all have their phones out, bright light beams in the dark of the room. All is quiet, for a moment.

And then: “What if I just, like, DM her?”

To which follows a chorus of groans, Dinah’s the loudest of all. “Sure, Mila.”

“No,” Camila squeezes the solo cup in her hand. “I’m serious.”

“You’re drunk.”

Camila narrows her eyes. “I only had Coke.”

Ally speaks without looking up from her phone. “Sober Camila would never outright offer to DM her crush. You need liquid confidence times like, a thousand, to even work up the idea.”

“Excuse me-!” Camila starts, then sighs out of frustration. The five of them— Camila, Dinah, Ally, Normani and Taylor— had planned a pre-Winter Break party to let out all their stress before embarking on a heavy week of finals. Alcohol was made available at all times thanks to Dinah’s parents being away for the weekend, but Camila was never much of a alcohol person to begin with, so while everyone got drunk off of two beers, Camila sat in the corner and sipped on her diet soda, bopping her head along to the blaring pop music.

“I just-“ Camila starts again. “This is our Junior year, you know? And Lauren’s gonna be gone next year…I might as well give it a shot sooner than later, right?”

“Where is this coming from?” Ally asks. “Before you were all timid and shy and _blushy_ over talking about Lauren. Now you’re gonna ask her out?”

“I’m not gonna _ask her out!”_ Camila scrunches her brow. “I’m just…thinking, okay? A DM can’t do that much harm…”

“I say do it,” Taylor grumbles from the ground. Her entire body is splayed out face-down on the floor. “Could be the start of something.”

Normani grunts in agreement from the couch. “Just do it so I can go back to sleep.”

“She’s not gonna do it.” Dinah rolls her eyes.

“Definitely not.” Ally agrees.

This is all the motivation Camila needs. “Wanna bet?” She opens the _Twitter_ app on her phone, her hands already shaking.

“Wait—“ Dinah sits up. “Mila-“

“Holy shit,” Ally runs over. “Is she actually doing it?”

“CAMILA!” Everyone seems to scream simultaneously.

“I’M GONNA DO IT,” Camila shouts back, clicking onto Lauren’s profile.

“DO IT.”

“OKAY BUT WAIT— I DONT WANNA BE WEIRD.”

“JUST SAY ‘HEY, LET’S HANG OUT SOMETIME.’”

“DINAH, THAT’S WEIRD—“

“FUCKING DO IT, CAMILA.”

“BUT—“

“IF YOU DON’T DO IT I WILL.”

A moment of silence passes, and then: “IT’S SENT.”

“OH MY GOD.”

“OH MY GOD!”

“I JUST FUCKING DM-ED LAUREN.”

**Direct Message To: Lauren Jauregui**

**Hey! This might be kinda weird but we sit next to each other in chem and you seem really nice and I, personally, find myself really nice too and what I’m trying to say is— we should hang out sometime. (Srry for how awkward this is lmao. You don’t have to reply).**

**— Camila from Chem**

Camila just about throws her phone on the ground, rolling onto her side and screaming into a random pillow, her feelings a mix of excitement and regret. Now comes the waiting game, she thinks. The inevitable silence from Lauren as the girl struggles to find a kind way of saying “please don’t ever talk to me again,” of ignoring Camila in chemistry class from now on and—

Her phone vibrates.

Dinah shrieks. “SHE REPLIED ALREADY? BRUH, SHE’S SO INTO YOU.”

Camila ignores her friend and reaches for her phone, dropping it two times due to her shaky hands. With her blurry vision, she makes out the notification from Twitter:

**Direct Message from: Lauren Jauregui**

**Hey!— Not weird at all, you seem really nice too! I’m actually glad to hear you don’t think I’m a bitch or something lol, I always try to talk to you in class but you’re really quiet ): lets change that. I’m having a New Years party at my place if you don’t already have plans. Hope to see you there? I’ll give you the official details in class on Monday. (If u wanna go of course. U don’t have to. Haha, now I’ve made things awkward.)**

**— Lauren from Lithuania (jk, I’m not from Lithuania, but I had to come up with something quirky ;) )**

“Camila?”

“MILA!”

“What does it say, dammit?!”

“Please stop screaming, all of you.”

Camila sits on the floor, stunned, phone in hand. Blood rushes to her cheeks, through her entire body. She smiles so big her face hurts. Within seconds, she clicks her phone’s screen to black.

“She doesn’t think I’m weird,” is all she says, giddy.

“But what did she SAY, Mila?” All of Camila’s friends stare at her, brows raised.

“Not important,” Camila mumbles. “She really is nice.”

“Jesus,” Normani grumbles. “She’s drunk again.”

“Yeah,” Ally says. “Drunk _in love.”_

This triggers Dinah and Taylor to break out into song. Camila giggles along with her friends, her mind buzzing with the idea of partying with Lauren.

The New Year is going to start off right, for once.


	4. Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHOS BACK BACK BACK AGAIN  
> (hint: its me)

“So what you’re saying is: you’re having second thoughts?”

Camila bites her nails in-between words, keeping her eyes pinned to the lunch table and her minuscule lunch: a half-eaten apple and a sad looking salad. “Not…second thoughts, per se. I guess I’m just…nervous.” She pauses, tearing a piece of her nail off. “Like, really nervous.”

Dinah eyes the girl up and down. “Yeah, I can see that.”

This definitely isn’t how Camila wants her Friday to go down. Lauren’s party is tonight, and she should be so excited, so filled with light and adrenaline and butterflies and all the little things that make a firework burst. And yet here she is, barely able to keep her half-eaten lunch down, thinking about how she’ll have to get ready for some party with random, tipsy rich girls and-

And Lauren.

And Lauren should be the catch here. She should be enough for Camila to swallow her fear and go to this party.

But here she is, a trembling loser. Like she’s always been, deep down.

“Mila, you look like you’re going to cry.”

“I feel so stupid.” Camila sighs. “Like, like I was so excited to do all of this and I thought I was so brave for actually talking to her and I thought somehow her inviting me to this party is a form of flirting but in all actuality she’s probably just way too nice a-and-“

Camila stops to breathe. She wraps her lunch and gets up to throw it away.

“I’m just going to tell her I can’t do it. Caught a really bad stomach bug or something—“

Camila stops breathing altogether. Her elbows collide with something smooth but jagged, and it only takes half a second for her to realize she’s just physically run into Lauren Jauregui’s abs.

“Hey, Camila.”

Camila stares open-mouthed. “Um. H-hi. Hello. Hey, whats up?”

Lauren can’t help but laugh. “I was just um…coming to say hi, thought I’d check in on you about the party tonight…Is everything okay?”

“Yup. Everything’s just…dandy. Totally fine. Totally.” Camila side-eyes Dinah, silently begging for help.

“So that’s…not my party I just heard you talking about, then?”

A part of Camila shrivels up and dies inside. “Nope.”

“You know, Camila,” Lauren leans in to whisper, and Camila yet again feels another piece of herself shrivel up and die inside. “I wouldn’t wanna make you do anything you’re…uncomfortable with.”

Camila’s face flushes. _I’m sure you wouldn’t._

“Yeah, no! I-I’m fine, r-really, I was just…like, talking about something else, you know? Just…a different thing, something totally different, haha.”

Lauren raises a brow. Camila runs a hand over her mouth, as if to force herself to stop talking.

“I’m a mess.”

“Yeah,” Lauren giggles. “I kinda got that.” She winks.

“Y-Yeah I-I’m j-just l-like-“

“You’re nervous because you won’t know anyone at the party, right?”

Camila chokes on her nervous breath. _Sure. Absolutely._ She nods.

“I get it. Look, if you wanna invite some of your friends to the party, I definitely wouldn’t mind. I’m sure they’re just as cool as you are.”

Camila again glances at Dinah, who’s just about ready to combust from holding in her laugh for so long.

“But um,” Lauren leans in again. “Your friends kinda have to bring some alcohol. It’s kind of a party guest tradition at the Jauregui household.”

Camila nods again, awkwardly rushing for her seat back with Dinah.

Yeah. She’s gonna need a helluva lot of alcohol.


End file.
